Alex in Wunderstrande: The Clairvoyance Clock [BOOK ONE]

Chapter XXVIII: The Memory Perambulator

Despite the conflicting feelings within, I allowed my eyes to journey across my early years. My delighted features were undoubtedly shared amongst my parents and older brother and, not too long after, my youngest sibling. We were a family undivided, content with our lives until I disappeared to fulfill my mission in Industria. The last photograph ever taken of me in Wunderstrande was a segment torn from my subconscious; I stood beside my father and his golden telescope, smiling widely as Albireo Alistair looked down at me with the proudest grin a father could ever possess.

I closed my eyes. While I yearned to feel at home in Wunderstrande, being surrounded by unfamiliar memories resulted in a jarring disconnect. I wasn't the same Alexander my family knew all those years ago. I was a product of the man who raised me, a Lancastrian, through and through.

"Father calls it his 'Memory Perambulator.'"

The sudden presence of someone other than me in the room shocked my nerves into life. Turning, I saw Rigel leaning against the door frame, hands deep in his pockets while he watched me inquisitively. Even in the muted light, I could tell his eyes were laced with red veins, supported only by the dark shadows underneath them. He stepped into the room and quietly examined the photographs in the upper tier.

"What's a perambulator?" I questioned.

"It's a circular device Father uses when measuring distance, usually when he's surveying land for a new building," Rigel answered softly. "He refers to this as a 'Memory Perambulator'—in ironic jest—because it measures distance over time, over our lives, and tracks how we've all changed."

"That's clever," I noted.

Rigel grinned. "Father certainly thought so, too." He ran his fingers over a line of photographs at eye level. "Mother said you found the Clairvoyance Clock...is it really true?"

I nodded. "It is. Unfortunately, I lost it as soon as I found it."

"Oh. That's a shame."

"Is it, though?" I asked, my voice tinged in skepticism. "It seems the only thing the Clock has caused is mayhem."

Rigel played absentmindedly with a stray thread on his sleeve.

"Perhaps we'd all be better off without it," I stated, watching to see how he'd respond.

"Maybe. Others wouldn't agree with you, though," Rigel said without missing a beat. Then, he quickly switched gears. "They missed you a lot, you know. Mother and Father."

"Not sure I believe you about Albireo," I responded, staring deeply at the telescope portrait. "He hasn't spoken a word to me."

"That's just him. He's not a man of many words. Kinda like me." Rigel sighed and turned his gaze to the floor.

I watched him trace his foot in small circles. "Can't sleep?"

Rigel flicked a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Weird how that works, right? Can't sleep when I want to but can't fight it when I don't. It's caused more problems for me than anything else. Sometimes I wish I could just be normal, like you."

"Thanks for the sentiment, but I'm hardly normal," I answered.

"Well, besides the Clock stuff," Rigel emphasized.

"I've suffered from asthma for as long as I can remember," I explained. "I'm not sure, but I think it's because the air quality is different on Industria than it is on Wunderstrande. The moment I go back to Industria, I'll have asthma again. I'd expect any Wunderstrandian would."

"Are you going back?"

I paused, avoiding Rigel's intense stare. Of course, I'd thought about it every minute since Jayce left. At some point, I would need to reclaim the Clock from Lucian. But there was something else that pricked at my subconscious, something I couldn't believe I was even considering: I needed to see Brody, to explain, to apologize.

"Sorry, Rigel, I need to be alone for a while," I whispered distractedly, ducking out of the room for some much needed fresh air.

***

By the time I reached Alistair Tower's outdoor balcony, my mind was so weary from sorting out what I needed to tell Brody that I scolded myself for not returning to my suite. Maybe now, I could actually sleep. Or maybe the promise of rest was just a false hope to which I'd held onto way too long.

I casually leaned over the railing, looking out over the sleeping city. The planet's twin suns were entwined in their early afternoon dance while a strong wind whistled through the surrounding skyscrapers. I took in a mouthful of thick, Wunderstrandian air and slowly allowed my lungs to release it. The air was ridiculously addicting. Like a drug, it held my brain hostage and refused to let go.

Just as I was about to head back inside, I noticed a faint, blinking light lingering over the distant horizon.

On, off. On, off. Just like a lighthouse.

I blinked several times and squinted to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. The pulsing light still hung low in the sky, unmoving, unchanging.

Due to its static nature, I ruled out an airship as a source. It couldn't be a star. Maybe it was actually a lighthouse or, perhaps, a technology I hadn't been introduced to yet. Nevertheless, the mysterious light source drew my attention like a magnet.

Entranced by the phenomenon, I hardly noticed a peculiar buzzing festering within my ears. As I stared at the unusual light, my vision slowly faded to black.

What materialized in its place was much more disturbing.